by Frank Carey
"What is that?" She asked as several rocks walked into the room and positioned themselves along the walls.
"A dead man's timer unit connected to the power core. If one of your minions kill me, or I drop it, or the timer counts down to zero, raw fuel is dumped into the reaction chamber, causing an explosion which will destroy this station and all aboard."
"You're bluffing."
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He handed it to a stryker who handed it to Zoe. She opened it, then read it before sitting down. "Those bitches have betrayed me after all I did for them," she said.
"Surrender. Maybe there's a way the League can put you in witness protection..."
"No, I will not surrender. I would rather die than let those ingrates have the satisfaction of killing me."
"What about your strykers. I assume they're Tralaskan underneath all that armor."
"They will gladly die with me, but you're going first," she said as she powered up her weapon. "Any last words, human?"
"Yep. I am a member of Space Patrol. My duty is to protect the League and all of her citizens even if it means my own death..." He stopped when Charis joined him.
"I've been helping him since you tried to kill him," she said. "It will be an honor to die with him for such a noble and worthy cause."
"Have it your way," Zoe said as her gun glowed with stored energy.
She never got a chance to pull the trigger.
Twelve silvery shapes rose from the ground and engulfed the remaining strykers in the room. Zoe fired at the fluids, but her weapon had no effect. The twelve shapes converged on her as she screamed. In moments, her screams stopped as the shapes moved back to reveal an empty floor. As Charis and Bart watched, one of the shapes morphed into Monica. She reached over and picked up a coffee cup from a console. "Forgot this," she said as she returned to her normal form and the twelve shapes disappeared into the floor. Seconds later, the Betty flew past before entering other-space.
"She took my coffee cup," Bart said as he shut down the timer. Meanwhile, the two-patrol craft headed to the station's delivery bay.
"We'll get you a new one," Charis replied. The crisis was over.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bart watched Earth through the lounge window as Station One passed over the terminator. He marveled at how fragile his home world looked from his vantage point high above its surface. He wondered if any of the people knew of the monsters he and his fellow pilots kept at bay daily.
"Hey, handsome. Waiting for someone special?"
Bart turned and instantly went to attention, snapping a sharp salute when he saw Captain Elanor "Jinx" Rinval standing next to him, clad in a little black dress and stiletto shoes while holding a drink in her hand. "Captain!"
She returned the salute, then leaned over and kissed him. "You're a captain, now, so you don't have to salute me."
"Sorry. Habit. I was an L-T for a long time."
"Did you salute Monica whenever you saw her?"
"Only for the first year of our marriage. She was finally able to talk me out of it."
"I miss her," Jinx said while leaning on the rail and staring at the planet.
"We all do," Bart replied. He looked over at Jinx and saw her tail staring at him from its resting place on her shoulder.
"Any more briefings left on your schedule?" she asked as she turned her back to the planet.
"Nope, no more meetings. Tomorrow, it's back to fixing coffee urns and power cores."
"You like being a repair man, don't you?"
"I love my job. It allows me to wrest order from the chaos."
"So, what happens to us now that life is back to normal?"
"What? Are you already missing those heady days of nucleonic missiles and cyborg invaders?"
She shrugged. "Maybe just a little."
He smiled at her as he withdrew a small cube from his pocket. She and her tail watched, mesmerized as he went to one knee and opened the cube. Inside was a diamond ring. "I know the elves do the tail thing, but I left mine at the cleaners. Elanor Rinval, will you be my bond mate?"
Her tail did the happy dance as she grabbed the ring and placed it on her finger before picking him up and kissing him. The crowd around them applauded. Finally, she released him. "Yes," she said while he caught his breath, and her tail wrapped around his wrist, a sign that they were already bonded.
After they were seated at their table and ordered dinner, Bart and Jinx talked about the future. "You first, Jinx. I hear you've been offered some plum posting assignments," Bart asked.
"Kinda depends on what you plan to do?" she replied.
"I fix things, and there are a lot of things that need fixing in the League. I only ask that we're posted someplace with people, lots of people."
"I'll see what I can do," she said as she leaned over and kissed him.
###
The Space Patrol Repair Ship Betty sat docked at a station permanently parked in other-space, something considered impossible by every species using other-space transport technologies. Yet there the station and the ship sat, defying the impossibility as if it were only a suggestion.
Monica and several fluids who had taken organic forms based on records contained in the Betty's memory banks, walked into the station's dormitory-style holding cell and found Zoe and all her strykers, waiting. Monica walked over to one of several tables and sat down. "Doctor, it was pure genius on your part to hide a space station inside other-space. But enough praise, we need to talk."
Zoe sat down and made her position clear. "You will release my strykers and me immediately. You may not be aware, but I have another, fully-stocked station in this sector. We will proceed there and stock the ship before taking it and my strykers to Government World..."
Monica sat back, crossed her legs, and placed her hands--fingertips interlaced--on her knee. "No."
"How dare you say no to me. I created you. I don't care how evolved you are..."
Monica tried to hide her smile.
"What's so damn funny?"
"The idea that anyone would fall for that 'temporal accelerator' bullshit. Doctor, the fluids are only a few years old and you, of all people, should have realized that."
"But Charis said..."
"Charis just relayed the information we presented her, information which we fabricated to keep you off-balance."
"I am not off-balance."
"Yeah, you are. Instead of evaluating the situation, you obsessed over the thought of what one of your creations would be like after ten million years of evolution. You and your team would be taking over Government world at this very moment if we hadn't distracted you. Without the distraction, you would have swept the station, found Bart, and killed him."
Zoe said nothing as she sat and seethed.
"So, what are we going to do with you?" Monica asked.
"Kill us?"
"Now, that would be a waste. Tell me, Zoe, are you a religious person?"
"No."
Monica nodded. "Zoe, all the major races have myths involving something or someone who created them. As far as I can tell, no one has ever actually met their creator in person, yet here I am talking to mine."
"Go on."
"Many of the creator myths revolve around the perfection of the creator and the quest of their creations to become perfect using them as a model."
"I am not perfect, just superior."
"And there's the rub. How can we," Monica said as she swept her hand to encompass the fluids and the strykers, "use you, our creator, as a model?"
Zoe's fear level rose as she sat silently as the strykers began to murmur amongst themselves. "What do you have in mind?"
"We are going to teach you humility, love, caring, and all the positive traits a god should have. We will draw from every religion in the League using tomes stored in the Betty's memory banks. We will make you into a god worthy of our worship and sacrifice. You will be a god, the strykers your angels, and the fluids your peop
le. Exciting times are in store for us."
"You're mad?"
"Like mother, like daughter. Did you know that some humans believe people make gods in their own image? I guess we are going to live the adventure."
"And if I fail to meet your expectations?"
Monica looked over at the airlock. "We have suppressed your stryker abilities. Ever wonder what it’s like to die in the vacuum of space? How many people have you killed? Have you ever shed even a single tear for those victims of your ego?"
"No."
"We're going to change that, I promise."
Zoe tried to detonate her power supply, but nothing happened as the strykers and the fluids broke out in laughter.
<<<<>>>>
About Frank Carey
Frank Carey has been formally writing and publishing works of science fiction since late 2013. Over the years prior, he had dabbled in various forms of writing including haiku poetry, but that all changed when he and his wife, Jo, decided to try their hand at writing and self-publishing. All his work, to date, has been in the science fiction genre.
Most of his stories take place about two centuries in the future when Earth joins the League of Planetary Systems. Many of his protagonists are strong females. He is an inveterate pantser who believes the story will go where the story wants to go.
Frank’s background includes degrees in physics and extensive work as a scientific programmer and technologist.
Frank and his wife produce a podcast—Xtreme Self-Publishing—which details their self-publishing efforts.
Frank can be reached through his podcast at xtremeselfpublishing.podbean.com or via e-mail at [email protected] or [email protected]
Table of Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
